


Killing Time

by my_mad_fatuation



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, POV Alternating, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-04-08 10:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14103546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_mad_fatuation/pseuds/my_mad_fatuation
Summary: Rae thinks that Finn might be the only cool person in Lincolnshire. Finn thinks that Rae might be the perfect target.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by the show, "The End of the F***ing World," although it does not really follow the story, so it shouldn't be a spoiler for the show if you haven't seen it yet. (Though I recommend watching it, anyway.) Also note: the point of view alternates between the two of them, denoted by *.

I’d never killed anyone before. Insects? Yes. Wild animals? Absolutely. Pets? Of course. But never a person. Never anyone who could say, “No! Stop! Please!” Never anyone who could beg for their life. I wasn’t sure if that would make it better or worse, but I wanted to find out.

First, however, I needed a target. Someone I could feasibly get alone with me, without raising suspicions. Which would be difficult because I had no friends. Nobody ever wanted to be around me, alone or in public. Nobody except Rae.

We hadn’t really spoken to each other, well, ever. But at school we always sat at the same table for lunch, away from all the other students. We would just sit there, each with our Walkman, and mutually ignore one another. She would read and I would watch people, trying to pick my mark. We never talked.

Until, one day, we did.

*

I’m sort of crazy. Seriously. My brain is fucked up.

I blame this stupid town. Everyone here is horrible and treats me like shit. I mean it. There are zero cool people in Lincolnshire.

Scratch that; there might be one cool person in Lincolnshire.

His name is Finn, and I sit at a table with him for lunch every day at school. He’s quiet, doesn’t talk much, but I can tell that he’s kind and he gets me. He’s never once laughed at me for my size, or asked me why I don’t eat lunch. He doesn’t judge me for reading trashy romance novels, either.

Sometimes I wonder what he thinks about when he sits there with his headphones on, eating his lunch and staring off into the distance. He seems really deep.

He’s the kind of guy who might actually date a fat girl like me. He’s not shallow, even though he is, as it so happens, fucking gorgeous. I often envision him as the romantic interest in the novels I read. It would be great if he could be the romantic interest in my own life. But would he?

Well, I suppose there’s only one way to find out…

I remove my headphones and look at him expectantly. It takes him a minute to realize that I’m staring at him, but soon he removes his own headphones as well.

“Hey,” I say to him.

He appears slightly confused, but replies, “Hey.”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

*

Of all the ways I thought she could have started a conversation with me, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” was not one of them. It struck me, however, that she had just provided me with an excellent opportunity.

“Okay,” I said after a moment of consideration.

She grinned at me so I forced half a smile. (I wished that my face wasn’t so terrible at expressing feelings that I didn’t have.)

“Great,” she said. “Should we go hang out or something?”

“You mean after school?” I asked.

“I mean right now.”

“But lunch is almost over, and classes—”

“I’m saying let’s skip our afternoon classes, yeah?” She had an impish look on her face, like she was excited about the prospect of doing something bad.

Well, I couldn’t blame her for that.

“Okay,” I said.

*

I can’t believe that worked. Finn seems like such a studious person—he does well in all the courses we have together, anyway—so for him to skip classes in order to hang out with me is pretty impressive. Plus, he says he wants to be my boyfriend. I am over the moon.

“Come on,” I say, picking up my knapsack from the seat next to me. “Let’s get out of here.”

I stand up and head straight outside, and he has to jog a step to catch up to me.

“Hold on, where are we going?” he asks when he finally matches my stride.

I realize that I can’t bring him to my house because my mum’s “illegal immigrant” boyfriend will be there.

“Do you live nearby?” I ask Finn as I continue towards the school ground exit.

“Er, yeah, but I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” he says.

*

The problem with bringing her ‘round to my house was that I couldn’t kill her there. It would so obviously get traced back to me. I had to get her out in the woods, or something. But who would go out into the woods with some guy she barely knew? I needed to make her trust me.

“Actually,” I added, “maybe we should go to my house after all.”

“Cool,” she said, and slipped her hand into mine. “Lead the way.”

We walked the rest of the way to my house, hand in hand. Her hand was pretty warm, and a little clammy. I wondered if she was nervous. But there was no way she could possibly know my plans for her, was there?

No, she wouldn’t willingly invite herself to be alone with me if she suspected anything.

“Is this your house?” she asked when I started towards the front door.

“Yeah.”

“It’s huge.”

“Yeah.”

“Why have you got such a huge house?”

“I don’t know,” I said. Why was she so obsessed with the size of the house? I’d never given it a moment of thought.

She walked right in to the living room when I opened the door and started looking around. “Have you got a liquor cabinet?”

“No,” I said. “My dad doesn’t drink.”

“What about your mum?”

“Er, she doesn’t drink, either.”

“Okay,” she said as she flopped onto the sofa. “Cool.”

*

It’s not like I even drink, though. I’ve never tried alcohol. I just feel like it might help me with my nerves right now. I’ve never done this before, this whole boy-and-girl thing.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” I say, acting like I’m more confident than I actually feel.

“Okay,” he says, and comes to sit next to me on the sofa with his hands resting on his knees.

I don’t know what to do in this situation, so I just ask, “Do you want to make out?”

He looks at me blankly. “Okay,” he says.

I wait for him to make a move, considering I’ve never kissed anyone and I’m sure he has, but he just sort of looks at me like he’s waiting for me to do something. So I lean over and push my lips against his.

His lips are puckered, but held together tightly, making it impossible for me to get my tongue in there. I don’t exactly know how kissing is supposed to work, but I think that it involved tongues, to some extent. In stories, the guy is always “seeking entrance” to the girl’s mouth with his tongue, but Finn is giving me none of that.

Maybe I’m doing something wrong. Maybe he’s not into it. Maybe I’ve got to amp things up a bit to get him going.

*

Her mouth was really wet, and she kept licking my lips for some reason. I assumed I was probably not very good at kissing, since I’d never done it before. But then she took my hand and placed it on her breast, which suggested that perhaps I was not as bad as I thought.

It did make me worry slightly, though. How far did I have to go with this to get her to trust me enough? Did I have to actually sleep with her? I wasn’t sure how to do that.

I knew about the birds and the bees, of course—though what it had to do with birds or bees, I never quite understood—and as such, I knew what was required of a man to get the job done. I just didn’t think I could meet such a requirement on demand like that. It was just a thing that popped up from time to time, so to speak.

Understandably, I was relieved when she let go of my hand and stopped licking my mouth. But I had to pretend that I wasn’t.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. I was unable to inject any sense of sincerity into my voice, unfortunately.

*

“Nothing’s wrong,” I reply. “I was thinking, it’s such a nice day out, maybe we should go for a walk instead.”

In reality, I’m just afraid to continue down this path with Finn so soon into our relationship. We need to take things a bit slower, and get to know each other better, as much as I might want to just bite into him like a violent dog. He won’t respect me if I just give it all to him right away.

“Outside, like in the woods, or something?” he says.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” I say. “Are there woods near here?”

He nods.

“Okay, cool. Let’s go.”

“I just need to, er, go to the toilet for a second,” he adds as we stand. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

*

My hands were trembling with excitement as I climbed the stairs to my room—I wasn’t going to the toilet, but rather to get my favourite knife. I couldn’t believe this had worked so well.

I stuck the knife and holster into my sock and covered it with the leg of my jeans before heading back downstairs.

“All set?” Rae asked.

“Yeah,” I said, and followed her out the front door.

As I locked it behind us, she took a deep breath of fresh air and added, “Isn’t it just lovely out here today?”

“Yeah.”

She was waiting for me to take the lead, since I knew the best way to get to the woods from my house. I’d gone plenty of times—it was a great place to kill animals in private and hide their carcasses. And it was about to be a great place to hide hers.

*

I like Finn. I feel like I could probably love him some day, even. I mean, what kind of boy is totally fine going for a nature walk when only minutes ago he thought he was about to get some action? Only one as kind and sensitive as he is.

I take his hand again as we walk down to the park, which leads into a large wooded area. There’s a walking path up to a point, but we continue beyond it. We have to climb over fallen branches and such, and there are bugs. It’s not nearly as romantic as I hoped it would be.

“How far are we going?” I ask.

“Just a little more,” he says. He squeezes my hand. “We’re almost there.”

I laugh nervously. “And where’s that?”

“You’ll see.”

*

I wanted to take her to the spot where I conducted all my research—for it was sort of like research, was it not? To satisfy my morbid curiosity about what exactly happens when a particular thing dies. The pleasure I derived from it was similar to that a scientist would derive from completing a successful experiment, or learning something new about the universe. It wasn’t like I _got off_ on killing things. I wasn’t a pervert.

In any case, there was a spot in the woods that was far enough away from civilization in all directions that it was unlikely anyone would hear her scream. It was also far enough from the walking path that no one going for a stroll would find her body, at least not right away. It was perfect.

I only realized the problem once we got there; people had seen us leave school together earlier that afternoon. If she was found and the police narrowed down her time of death, I would be the first suspect. I hadn’t thought this through…

“You all right, Finn?” she said when we stopped. “You look a little… concerned.”

I was concerned, obviously, but I didn’t want it to be obvious, so I feigned a smile. “I’m fine,” I told her.

“Is this the spot, then?”

“Yeah.”

*

As I look around at the surrounding area, I immediately start to regret ever suggesting we come here. It’s colder here in the shade, and there’s dirt everywhere, and the bugs are getting me.

“What do we do now?” I ask.

“We could sit for a while,” he suggests, pointing to a tree with bulging roots that form a lump for us to sit on.

I examine the roots with distaste for a moment, but I don’t want to seem high maintenance, so I just smile and take a seat. “This is cozy,” I say as I nestle in beside him.

“Yeah.”

When I look towards him, I notice that he’s staring at me. “What?” I ask with a flirtatious laugh.

“Nothing,” he says. “Just… you’re beautiful.”

*

I thought it was a better reason for staring at her than, “I’m contemplating what would be the best way to slit your throat.” Besides, she was attractive, probably. I wasn’t repulsed by her, at least. Sure, I didn’t feel anything for her by looking at her, but I didn’t feel anything for anyone, ever. That was my problem, not hers.

In any case, she seemed pleased with what I told her—after the initial shock wore off—because she kissed me again. This time I relaxed my lips a bit more and her tongue went in my mouth slightly. It was… interesting. I started to push back with my tongue, too, but then she stopped suddenly.

“Can I tell you something, Finn?” she asked, with her arms resting on my shoulders.

“Okay,” I said.

“I’ve never told anyone this, so you have to promise to keep it a secret.”

“Okay.”

*

I don’t know why, but it just feels like the right time to tell him. “I’m crazy,” I say seriously. “Like, mentally ill, or whatever.”

He doesn’t react right away. “Okay,” he finally says after a minute.

“I mean it,” I add. “I was hospitalized and everything.”

“Okay.”

I lower my arms from his shoulders. “Does that—Er, do you still… like me?”

“Yeah, of course.” A hint of a reassuring smile flickers in the corner of his mouth before a look of concern takes over. “What were you hospitalized for?”

“What?”

“You were put in a hospital. Something had to have happened,” he says.

“Oh, well, er…” I begin, looking down at my knees. I consider making something up, something less terrible than the truth, but then I decide just to own it. “I tried to kill myself.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

I look at him sceptically. “Are you asking me how I tried to kill myself?”

He nods.

“I cut myself. Repeatedly. On my legs,” I tell him, trying to make it sound like it’s no big deal.

“Did it… hurt?” he asks.

“I s’pose.”

He looks down at my legs and then takes ahold of my hand. “I’m sorry,” he says.

*

And I was sorry. I was sorry that she’d caused herself needless pain and suffering. I was sorry that she’d failed. But I knew what I had to do. I was going to help her. I was going to be her saviour.

I had to kill Rae.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rae's tired of her home life and wants to get away, which gives Finn the perfect opportunity.

When I get home after what would have been a day at school, but was actually half a day at school and half a day with Finn, my mum is already there, snuggled up on the sofa with her boyfriend, Karim. He’s currently on the run from Immigration, so he can’t leave the house. Which means the two of them are always just… around. It’s annoying.

“Hi, Rae,” my mum says when I walk into the living room, like she’s surprised to see me. “How was school?”

“Fine,” I grumble as I walk past on my way to the stairs.

“You’re home a bit late, aren’t you?” she asks.

“I was hanging out with a friend.”

“Which friend? Chloe?”

I stop and roll my eyes impatiently; Chloe hasn’t even spoken to me in months. “Not Chloe. Just a friend from school.”

“What’s her name?”

“He’s a boy,” I say, all defiant-like.

“Oh, well—”

“His name’s Finn. And he’s my boyfriend.”

And with that, I continue up the stairs to my room, because there’s absolutely not a fucking thing she can do about it.

*

I got home later than usual after spending the afternoon in the woods with Rae. We had mostly just talked and made out for a little while. It was not all that exciting, but seemed like necessary groundwork for my future plans.

Unfortunately, my dad was already home when I got there, and he asked me where I’d been.

“Out,” I said contemptuously. I hoped he realized that it was a specific contempt I had for him, and not just a general teenage contempt for everything.

“Did you make a friend or something?” he said with a chuckle.

“Something,” I grumbled.

“Ohoho, Finn, my boy,” he added, clapping me on the back. “Have you got yourself a girlfriend?”

I murmured incoherently as I continued towards the stairs.

“Er, boyfriend?”

“I’m not gay,” I replied, growing more irritated.

“You don’t have to be gay to have a boyfriend, son,” he said. “It’s a broad spectrum these days, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t got a boyfriend,” I clarified. “I was hanging out with a girl.”

“Really? That’s wonderful!”

“Is it?”

“I don’t remember you hanging out with anyone since… well, since ever, Finn. This is great.”

“Thanks.”

“Have you got any preferences for tea tonight?” he asked.

“I’m not hungry,” I said before heading upstairs.

And I wasn’t hungry. I was too busy fantasizing about Rae. About what it would be like to kill her. About what it would be like right before I killed her. Would she scream for her life? Or would I hit her with a surprise attack? Maybe I’d do it while we were making out, to distract her. No, wait, then I would get her blood all over me. I’d have to think this through more carefully.

It was going to take a while.

*

“Sometimes I hate my life,” I say as I allow myself to sink back into the cushions of Finn’s sofa. We’ve decided to skip our afternoon classes again today, despite the fact that missing two days in a row will mean our parents definitely get calls from the school.

“That’s a bit obvious,” he replies. “You did try to end it, after all.”

“I’m being serious here!”

He looks a bit confused. “So was I,” he says.

“It’s my mum,” I continue, choosing to ignore his callousness. “She’s always on my case about stuff, even though it’s not like she’s got her shit together, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s such a nightmare that my dad had to leave and move to the Outer Hebrides, for fuck’s sake!”

“Really?”

“Really. She’s that terrible.”

“I’m sorry you have to live with her, then.”

“I’d so much rather live with my dad,” I say, letting my head rest on the back of the sofa.

“Dads aren’t so great,” he says.

I look over at him and he’s staring down at the floor. “Something happen with your dad, then?”

“No, not really. He just… irritates me.”

“I wish we could just get out of here.”

“You mean like go back out to the woods?”

“No, I mean get out of here properly. Out of Stamford. Out of Lincolnshire.”

“Where would we go?” he asks. He doesn’t sound judgmental or concerned at all. It seems like he thinks it’s a good idea, too.

*

I thought it sounded like a good idea, to get out of town for a while with Rae. It would make it easier for me to literally distance myself from the crime.

“I’d like to go see my dad,” she said.

“Okay,” I said.

I thought the Outer Hebrides sounded pretty far, but I wouldn’t have to go all that way in order to kill her. I probably would just have to make it out of the county before I did the deed. A few hours, there and back, at most.

“Seriously?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“But how would we get there?”

“I’ve got a car.”

She looked surprised. “Have you?”

“My dad gave it to me for my birthday,” I told her. That wasn’t entirely true, but my dad did have two cars, for some reason, and sometimes let me borrow one of them. He wouldn’t miss it for a few hours.

“Whoa. Your dad’s rich, isn’t he?”

“I s’pose,” I said.

“Have you got money?” she asked.

“What?”

“For petrol and whatever we’ll need on the way there.”

“Er, I’ve got a bit.”

“We should do it, then,” she said, her eyes wide with hope.

“What, now?”

“Tonight. Pick me up at my house at midnight.”

*

When I get home that afternoon, I eagerly dump all my school stuff out of my knapsack and start stuffing it with useful things, like a change of clothes and my toothbrush. I also pack the book I’m currently reading, because I figure it might get a little boring sitting in a car for however many hours.

I can hardly believe this is actually going to happen, though. I’ve often dreamed of running away from home, as most kids do, but I’m about to be one of the few who actually makes it out. And to run away with my boyfriend, I mean, how romantic is that? He must really like me.

*

I spent the evening in my room, plotting. I studied the map I found in my dad’s car—or one of his cars, at least—to figure out the best route to take, even though I knew we weren’t going to make it to Scotland. If all went to plan, we probably wouldn’t even make it to Leeds.

I expected to be back by morning, but to keep up appearances and not raise suspicion, I packed a bag as though I were planning to be on the road for a couple of days. Clothes, toiletries, and a couple of cassettes for the car, as well as all the money I had, just in case. (I’d been saving up money from birthdays and Christmases since I was old enough to receive it. I never bought anything; nothing ever seemed important enough.)

I waited until I was sure that my dad was asleep, shortly after midnight, and then made my way quietly down the stairs and out the front door. I just had to hope that the sound of the engine wouldn’t wake him when I turned the car on. If it did, I didn’t wait around long enough to find out.

*

“You’re late,” I say to Finn when I get into his car around half past midnight.

“Yeah,” he says as he starts to drive. He glances at me for a second and must see the annoyance on my face because he adds, “Sorry.”

“Whatever.”

“I had to wait for my dad,” he continues. “To fall asleep, I mean. So I could take the car without him noticing.”

“Fine.” I don’t know why I’m being such a bitch right now. I should be excited; we’re finally getting out of here. This should be the happiest moment of my life so far. But I’m angry. Not at him, though. I think I’m angry at myself.

I hate myself.

Finn keeps looking over at me periodically. “Rae? Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” I lie.

“I think you’re lying,” he says, though he doesn’t sound angry.

I wonder how he can read me so well this early in the relationship. He truly cares about me, it seems. Knowing this makes me feel a little better.

“I’ll be all right soon,” I tell him, placing my hand over his on the gear shift. “Once we get out of this fucking town.”

*

It didn’t take long to get out of “this fucking town,” as Rae put it, and then we were on the wide open road. (Or, rather, the narrow and winding road of the British countryside.) I’d never realized before how much I despised driving at night, however. It was dark outside of town where there were no street lamps, and I could barely see what was in front of me on the road, which made me drive with my shoulders hunched up the whole time.

“Are you okay to drive right now?” she asked me.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“I think you’re also lying,” she said. “We should stop if you’re too tired.”

“You mean you want to go back home?”

“No! I mean we should find a place to rest for the night and start back up tomorrow when we’re refreshed.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I was a bit tired, after all. I didn’t know where we going to find such a place, but according to the map I’d studied earlier, there was a town close by. I figured there would probably be a motel or something of the sort there. Even if I had to sleep for a couple hours, I could still kill her and get back home before I had to leave for school in the morning. This would work, I thought.

*

We pull up to a really pathetic motel near the edge of the next town. It looks like the kind of place where people do drugs with prostitutes and stuff. It almost makes me want to reconsider the whole thing, but then I remember how suffocated I felt at home. This is freedom; this is independence.

We go to the check-in desk and the woman looks at us funny, like she’s wondering what the fuck a couple of seventeen-year-olds are doing checking into a motel at one-thirty in the morning. She probably thinks we’re here to do something illegal. Or maybe she thinks we’re going to have sex. (We might.)

“Can we get a room, please?” Finn asks. He’s clearly never done anything like this before; he’s practically shaking.

It’s weird; the more nervous he seems, the more confident I feel. I grab his trembling hand and hold onto it as the woman gives him the key to our room.

*

I looked at Rae when she took my hand, and she just smiled at me. I hoped she couldn’t tell how nervous I was. It would have been a dead giveaway that I had something planned. So I forced a small smile on my face—though I didn’t have to force it much. I wasn’t sure if it was the anticipation of what I was about to do, or the fact that I was starting to enjoy the feeling of her hand on mine, but I was almost… pleased.

The room smelled musty when we got there, and the floor was lined with dark shag carpeting, like it hadn’t been redecorated in twenty years. Rae dropped her bag on the floor and climbed up onto the bed, on top of the maroon bedspread. It looked like the perfect colour to disguise blood stains, I thought.

“What?” she said with a laugh as she leaned back on her hands, watching me like she was waiting for me to say something.

Apparently I’d zoned out. “Sorry?”

“You’re staring at me again.”

“Oh, er, sorry ‘bout that,” I said, quickly averting my gaze.

“Is it true?” she asked.

“Is what true?”

“Is it true that you think I’m beautiful?”

I looked back at her again. “Yeah, of course.”

“It’s just, no one had ever told me that before you did…”

“Oh.”

“Are you going to join me over here, ever?” she added, tilting her head towards the space on the bed next to her.

“Right. Yeah.”

I set my own bag on the floor beside hers before joining her on the bed. For a second I considered removing my shoes before putting my feet up, but then I remembered that this was a dirty motel and it didn’t deserve that level of respectfulness. Besides, I was going to murder someone soon; I needed to get my priorities straight.

*

“So…” I say as he sits next to me, kicking his feet up onto the bed without taking off his shoes, like a good little hooligan. “What should we do now?”

I want him to say that we should have sex. That he can’t hold back his feelings for me any longer and he needs to express them through the physical act of love. That he is aching for my—

“I s’pose we should go to sleep, yeah?” he says.

“Oh,” I reply, absolutely crushed. “Okay. Sure.”

I turn away from him and lie down on my side with my head on the pillow. I don’t even bother getting under the duvet—it’s probably disgusting under there, anyway.

*

I could tell she wasn’t too thrilled about my suggestion that we go to sleep, but I wasn’t sure why. I thought that was why we’d come here, to get some rest. But the way she said, “Sure,” sounded insincere, as far as I could tell.

I nestled against her back with my hand on her shoulder and squeezed, hoping that this sort of backwards hug thing would cheer her up. It would have been so easy to do it then, to kill her. She wouldn’t have even seen it coming.

But I was sort of tired and wanted to sleep, and she was so soft and warm against me that I just drifted off. There was always morning.


	3. Chapter 3

My initial plan to kill Rae and get back to Stamford in time for school was not going to work anymore. For one thing, we slept in until ten in the morning. It also occurred to me that the woman at the check-in desk last night had seen me with Rae, and could give the police a description of my appearance if anything happened. I was going to have to find somewhere more secluded to enact my vision.

After paying for the room, we got back in the car and I continued driving north.

“Where’d you get all the money?” Rae asked me.

“What?”

“That giant wad of cash you pulled out of your bag to pay for the motel,” she said. “Where’d you get it? Did you rob a bank, or something?”

“It’s mine,” I replied.

“You just had a giant wad of cash sitting around?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re fucking rich, you know that? If you just have wads of cash lying around.”

“It wasn’t just lying around,” I said defensively. “It’s my life savings.”

“You mean that’s all your money?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“What?”

“I just didn’t realize you were so invested in this,” she said.

I glanced over at her and she was smiling.

“It’s pretty sweet,” she added.

*

Once we’ve been driving for about an hour, Finn turns to me for a second and says, “Are you hungry?”

“Maybe a little,” I say. (I am so hungry.)

“Should we stop at a restaurant soon?” he asks.

“Er, can we get takeaway instead?” I reply. “Only, that way we can keep driving while we eat and save a bit of time.”

He doesn’t respond right away and I worry that he thinks it’s a weird request. “Okay,” he finally says.

We keep driving until we come across a diner with a sign out front saying that they do takeaway, and pull into the parking lot out front. Finn unfastens his seatbelt and starts to open his door before looking over at me, with my seatbelt still on.

“You coming?” he asks me.

“I’d rather just stay here, if you don’t mind,” I say.

“Don’t you want something to eat?”

_Yes_. “Not really.”

“Oh.” He looks confused for a moment. “Okay.”

*

I wasn’t sure why Rae didn’t want something to eat when she’d already said she was a little hungry—wasn’t she just going to get more hungry if she didn’t eat anything? But I trusted her to know herself better than I did, so I let her stay in the car while I went and ordered something for myself.

I ordered two burgers and some chips—I was _definitely_ hungry—and received some funny looks when I pulled out my giant wad of cash to pay for it. Perhaps I should have broken it down into smaller piles.

*

Finn returns shortly with a bag full of food, and hands it to me so he can get buckled into his seat. I can smell the chips and my mouth starts watering. As I pass the bag back to him, my stomach grumbles audibly.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

We sit in the car silently as he eats one-and-a-half burgers and two thirds of the chips.

“You can have the rest, if you want,” he says, handing me the bag again.

I take it, but I don’t eat any of the food as he starts the car back up. But I do open the bag and smell it again. God, I’m so hungry. If I don’t eat something soon I might pass out—it’s happened before.

So I tell him. “I can’t eat in front of strangers.”

He glances at me for a second before returning his attention to the road. “Oh.”

“I haven’t been able to in years.”

“Okay,” he says. He pauses for a moment and then adds, “But I’m not a stranger, am I?”

“Well…” I have to admit, he has a point. “Do you promise not to judge me if I eat?”

“Why would I judge you?”

“Because I’m… fat,” I say. I look at him and he is frowning as he watches the road ahead of him.

“So?” he says. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“When you’re fat, people judge everything you eat, everything you wear, every decision you make, especially about what you do with your body.”

“Then people are idiots and should mind their own fucking business.” He glances at me again. “Go on, then. Eat.”

*

I couldn’t understand why anyone would care what Rae ate or wore or did, but then again, I couldn’t understand why people did most things. Maybe there was a good reason, but I couldn’t conceive of it.

Slowly and quietly, she ate the rest of the chips as I drove, and her mood lifted.

“Have you got any music?” she asked.

“I’ve got a couple of cassettes in my bag,” I told her, pointing to the backseat with my thumb.

She unlatched her seatbelt so she could twist around and reach behind the seats to get my bag. When she set it on her lap and opened it, she started laughing.

“What?” I said, unable to give her my full attention at the moment.

“I just never expected that you wore pants like this,” she said. “They look so snug!”

I looked at her quickly and saw that she was dangling my spare underwear in the air in front of her. “The cassettes are in the other pocket,” I told her.

She giggled a little as she stuffed them back into the bag and opened the front pocket with the cassettes. “They aren’t labeled,” she said when she held them up. “What’s on them?”

I shrugged. “Some songs I like.”

“And it doesn’t bother you not knowing which is which?”

“No.”

“Okay…” She took one out of its case and popped it in the car’s cassette-player. After rewinding it to the beginning, she pressed play and the first song began.

_“That’s the truth now, baby. (All for love.) That’s the truth now, baby. (Love for all.)”_

“Oh my god,” she said suddenly, turning up the volume dial. “I love this song.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

When I looked at her, she was bopping her head to the music. She looked back at me, grinning, right before the chorus started, and gave me a nod. I nodded back.

“I-I-I-I’m all for love, and that’s the truth now, baby, love for all!” we both sang loudly.

I was terribly off-key, but she was actually pretty good. I’d never sung along to anything before. It was fun, though.

*

He’s such a terrible singer, but it’s sort of endearing. He is so cute that I can’t contain myself anymore, so I lean over and kiss the side of his cheek.

“What was that for?” he asks in a non-accusatory way.

“I just like you,” I say.

He glances at me again and smiles. “I like you, too,” he says.

“You know what we should do?”

“What?”

“We should pull over near those woods over there,” I reply, “and find a secluded spot to make out.”

He keeps staring ahead for a moment before he says, “Okay.”

*

I tried not to seem overly eager, but this was just too ideal of an opportunity.

I found a place to pull over and looked at her. “Is this all right?” I asked.

“It’s perfect,” she said with a smile, and then gave me a quick kiss on the lips before exiting the car.

I hurried to get out of the car myself and followed her into the woods. I was so nervous that my palms were sweating, which was not good. Sweaty palms were not the best for wielding knives.

She appeared to have found a large rock for us to sit on when I caught up to her. “Is this all right?” she asked.

“It’s perfect,” I said with a smile, and took a seat next to her.

She immediately put her arms around my neck and pulled me close so she could kiss me again. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I rested them tentatively on the sides of her waist as we kissed, which was less awkward than the first time. I must have been getting the hang of it.

I inadvertently found myself getting a bit swept up in everything and forgetting that I was on a mission. I had come out to the woods with a purpose, and I needed to fulfill that purpose. But I also needed to make sure the timing was right. One false move and I’d spook her or, worse, give her the opportunity to flip the situation and attack me in self-defence.

It was difficult to concentrate on formulating a specific plan of action, though, as she combed the hair at my nape with her fingers, sending not-unpleasant shivers down my spine. But our current circumstances were too optimal for me not to take advantage of them, so I forced myself to focus. I was going to slowly reach for my knife while she was distracted with my tongue in her mouth, and then I would go in for the kill.

I started to move my hand down her side, past her hip, and onto her leg—in the hopes of reaching my own leg—but she placed her hand over mine before I could even get to her knee.

“Wait,” she said. “Tonight.”

“What?”

“We’re going to see how far we can drive today, and then tonight we’ll stop in—at a nice hotel, Mr. Moneybags—and that’s when…”

“When, what?”

“When we’ll have sex.”

“Oh.”

Shit. If I didn’t kill her now, I was going to have to find some way to get out of having sex with her without making her think that I didn’t want her. Or I was going to have to actually have sex with her, somehow. I wasn’t sure how I would accomplish either of those things.

Before I could do anything, she stood up and held out her hand to me. “Let’s go,” she said.

*

After stopping for petrol and snacks, we continue driving for a few more hours until we end up in Glasgow for the night. We find a decent hotel with a room available that’s not too expensive—Finn may have a lot of cash, but that’s got to last us until we get to my dad’s.

The room is much nicer than the motel from last night. That one felt a bit murder-y, but this one feels safer. And cleaner. So much so that I immediately kick off my shoes and climb into the bed, under the duvet. The sheets are so smooth and cold; it’s nice.

“Are you gonna just stand there all night?” I ask Finn as he hovers by the door.

“No, I just, er, I have to go to the toilet,” he says.

*

I figured it probably seemed a bit suspicious for me to take my bag with me into the bathroom, but I needed to get my knife out of my sock and hide it in my bag without her seeing it. I also, as it so happened, needed to use the facilities anyhow, so my reason for going in there was two-fold.

When I emerged, I set my bag carefully on the floor near hers and pried off my shoes before going over to join her in the bed. I tried to come up with a good reason for us to just go to sleep, but it was only nine-thirty, and I didn’t think she’d believe me if I said I was tired already.

I was about to tell her that I felt sick to my stomach and we should postpone, but then she sat up and reached behind her under the back of her shirt. “What’re you doing?” I asked.

“Taking off my bra,” she said as she pulled one of the straps out through her sleeve. “I don’t like sleeping with it on.”

“Okay.”

I didn’t quite understand how bras worked and hadn’t realized they could be taken off without removing one’s top, so I watched intently, fascinated. Once she’d pulled the whole thing out from under her t-shirt, she dropped it onto the floor beside her.

“Take your trousers off,” she said, reaching under the covers to remove her own.

I hesitated for a moment, but I couldn’t think of a good reason not to—even if I did just want to go to sleep, I’d probably take them off anyway—so I did.

*

As we remove our trousers, it occurs to me that this is really going to happen. I try to act confident about it, even though I’m really nervous. I don’t want him to know that this is my first time, though. I want him to think that I’m experienced, like he is.

I turn onto my side to face him and place my hand on his chest. “What are you thinking about?” I ask as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Nothing,” he says. He looks over at me, putting his hand on top of mine, and I kiss him.

*

I shouldn’t have let her kiss me. It was too distracting, and I soon found myself rolling towards her so I could hold onto her side as she wrapped her arms around my neck again. I knew I should have ended this before it escalated, but it escalated really quickly. I didn’t know what was going on, just that I didn’t mind it.

She took my hand and moved it up to her breast again, which felt different without a bra on. It was… interesting.

I started to understand why people did this sort of thing before having sex; after groping at each other for a couple minutes, I was ready, willing, and eager to go.

“Hold on a second,” she said when I got on top of her. “Have you got protection with you?”

I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. “I’ve got… a knife in my bag, if that’s what you mean,” I said.

She looked horribly confused. “No, I meant, like, johnnies!”

“Oh. No. Haven’t you?”

“Why would I have any?” she asked, like she was offended.

“You’re the one who’s done this before,” I said.

“No, I haven’t! You have!”

“I haven’t, either.”

*

It’s really awkward right now, lying here with Finn between my legs and neither of us knowing how to proceed. Obviously we can’t go through with it right now, but how does one diffuse such a situation?

“I suppose we’ll just have to buy some for tomorrow,” I say.

“Okay,” he replies.

“So, you can get off of me, now.”

“Oh. Right.”

I can tell he’s disappointed as he climbs off, as am I. There’s always tomorrow, though.

But I have to wonder, why the fuck has he got a knife in his bag?


	4. Chapter 4

“Why have you got a knife?” Rae asked me.

I wasn’t even fully awake yet, as I blinked my eyes open in the harsh light of morning. “What?”

“Last night you said you had a knife in your bag.”

“Er, it’s just… in case…” I replied groggily.

“In case what?”

“In case I need it.”

“For what?”

“For… stuff—It’s not important,” I said.

She glared at me suspiciously for a minute. “Fine,” she said.

“You’re perfectly safe with me,” I told her, picking up her hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I didn’t think you were going to use it on _me_ ,” she added with a laugh.

I laughed, too, though I could tell it didn’t sound very natural.

“You’re a bit weird,” she said, and then smiled. “But I like it.”

“That’s… good, I s’pose.”

“Come on,” she added. “We should probably hit the road soon. We’ve still got a long way to go, I imagine.”

We did, in fact, have quite a way to go, if we were going all the way to her dad’s. And if I didn’t step up my game to kill her soon, we would be.

*

The hotel serves a complimentary continental breakfast, and Finn insists that we go and take advantage of it, despite my resistance.

“It’s built into the price of the room,” he says. “Not to go would be like letting them steal from us.” He doesn’t really sound like he believes that; I think he’s just hungry.

I follow him down to the dining room and over to the buffet where he hands me a plate. “I—I can’t eat here,” I tell him quietly.

He looks around. “There’s hardly anyone here,” he replies.

“I know, but someone might see me and—”

“Rae…” He seems concerned. “Look, do what you want to do, but at some point you’ve got to stop caring what random strangers _might_ think of you.”

I want to argue, but he has a point. I can’t live my life fearing the potential opinions of strangers or else I’ll never do anything. Besides, if I can run away from home with a boy I just started dating, then I can do anything, can’t I?

I walk up to the trays of hot food and put a single pancake on my plate. Baby steps.

*

I managed to convince her to eat more than just a pancake. I wasn’t sure why I did it, though; what did it matter how much she ate if she was just going to die later anyway? But I sort of wanted to protect her—you know, until the murder.

Once we were checked out of the hotel and back in the car, Rae turned to me and said, “We should stop at a pharmacy while we’re still in town.”

“Why?” I asked. I wondered if she was ill and whether or not it was contagious.

“So that we’re prepared,” she said. “For later.”

“Okay.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant, though. Not until we got to the pharmacy and she told me to go in.

“What am I getting?” I asked as I unbuckled my seatbelt.

She frowned at me. “I already told you.”

“Er, remind me.”

“We need to be prepared. For later. Unlike last night…”

I finally understood what she meant. “Right. Okay. Got it.”

I got out of the car—alone, because she refused to come with me—and went into the pharmacy, though I had no idea where to start looking for what I’d been sent in to buy. I didn’t exactly want to ask an employee, either, so I wandered up and down the aisles until I wound up in a section called, “Family Planning.” I never would have thought to look there.

I felt ridiculous, standing in front of a large display of condoms, trying to figure out which to buy when, in reality, it didn’t matter. Because I knew that I couldn’t have sex with Rae.

I mean, obviously I physically _could_ , as I had learned the previous night. But it seemed a little creepy to have sex with someone and then kill them, didn’t it? Like I said, I wasn’t a pervert.

Still, I needed to keep up the pretence that I wanted to have sex with her so that I wouldn’t hurt her feelings—hurting her feelings would be needlessly cruel, I thought. So I picked up a small package of condoms and hurried to the checkout. (I also felt ridiculous buying nothing but a small package of condoms with my huge wad of cash—why hadn’t I broken it down yet?)

*

“What took you so long?” I ask when Finn returns to the car.

“First I had to find the damn things,” he says. “And then there were way too many options and—”

“But did you get some?”

He pulls a small box out of his bag to show me, as if I wouldn’t believe him if he just said, “Yes.”

“Good,” I say confidently, trying to hide the fact that I’m a little terrified of what this means for us. “Let’s hit the road, then.”

We drive into the countryside with a mixtape on, though neither of us seem to feel much like singing along. Things have been awkward between us since last night, but they seem to have reached a new peak.

“Are you angry at me?” I finally ask him, since the not-talking is unbearable now.

“For what?” he replies. (That’s not a “no.”)

“For last night.”

“Why would I be angry at you for that?” he says, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I dunno,” I say. “But you’ve not talked to me for the past hour.”

“So?”

“So, it makes it seem like you’re angry.”

He glances over at me with a smile that looks forced. “I’m not angry.”

“Fine.”

*

I got the distinct impression that when Rae said, “Fine,” it meant that things were not fine, but I couldn’t figure out why. I’d told her I wasn’t angry. I’d tried to smile. What more did she want?

“Look—” I started to say, when the car suddenly jerked.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.

She sounded worried, and I wanted to assure her that it was fine—but I had no idea if it was or not. When the car jerked again, I figured I should pull over, though.

“What’s wrong with the car?” she said, even more agitated.

“I don’t know,” I repeated as I turned off the engine.

“Are you going to take a look?”

I looked at her as though she were talking nonsense. “I don’t know anything about cars!”

“We should call someone, a tow truck or something,” she said. “Have you got a mobile telephone?”

“I’m not a millionnaire!”

*

Well, he could have fooled me, with his giant wad of cash and his car and his huge house…

“Fine!” I snap at him. “We’ll just have to… Have to walk to the nearest house and get them to call for us.”

“Great. We have a plan,” he says, though I can tell he’s as annoyed at me as I am at him right now.

We both get out of the car and start walking back in the direction we came from, because there is a side road not too far back that probably leads to some sort of residential area. Not a single car has passed us yet, and we don’t say a word to each other until we stop in front of a really long driveway.

“There appears to be a house at the end,” Finn says.

“I feel like people who live that far away from the road don’t really want unannounced visitors,” I reply.

“That’s too bad for them.”

He leads the way towards the house as I trudge along behind him, wishing I could go home. Wait, no. I don’t want to go home, not ever. I want to be at my dad’s. That’s my new home.

When we get to the front door of the house, Finn knocks, but it takes a few minutes for anyone to answer. The woman who does answer is old and grumpy-looking, but I soon learn that she’s not nearly as angry as she appears.

“Can I help you?” she says, giving us what I think looks like the stink-eye, but is actually just her face.

“Our car broke down a couple miles down the road, and we’d like to use your phone to call a tow truck,” he tells her.

“Of course, love,” she replies. “Come on in.”

I find it odd how she is so trusting of a couple of strangers, and it makes me think that something bad is about to happen. I tug on Finn’s sleeve and whisper in his ear, “Do you think she’s going to try and murder us?”

“I’ve got a knife, remember?” he whispers back. “Chill out.”

*

We followed the older woman into the house where she let us have a seat on a small sofa in her living room while she went to put the kettle on.

“She’s probably going to poison the tea,” Rae grumbled when the woman was out of earshot.

“Why would she do that?” I asked her.

“Because living all the way out here by herself has made her go mental,” she suggested. “That’s exactly the type of person who tries to kill people for fun; a crazy person.”

I wasn’t sure she was so right about that—I wasn’t crazy, anyway. “I thought you were crazy, though,” I said to her.

“Yeah, and I tried to kill myself; crazy people like to kill. I should know.”

“That’s a bit of a generalization…”

“Tea’ll be ready in a few minutes,” the woman said when she returned from the kitchen. “Here’s the number for a nearby garage, too,” she added, handing me a slip of paper with a telephone number written on it.

“Thanks,” I said, and picked up the receiver of the phone on the side table next to me. I called the number and got ahold of someone at the garage who said they’d be sending a tow truck to get us in a couple of hours. Which gave us a bit of time to rest after walking here for nearly an hour, have some tea, and we’d still make it back to the car before the truck arrived.

*

We sit and drink tea for a little while, but I refuse to eat any of the old woman’s weird biscuits. All right, they didn’t look weird—just like normal shortbread—but I don’t trust her and also I have food issues. Finn manages to make conversation with her enough that I don’t have to say much. He’s not super talkative, but he tries, and I find it kind of endearing even though I hate this whole situation.

The woman attempts to get us to stay longer, but we tell her that we really need to get going if we want to make it to our car in time to meet the tow truck. (See? I told him she wanted to murder us!)

The walk back to the car feels longer than the walk out, somehow. I’m tired and hungry and I really should have eaten some of those weird biscuits.

“Can we stop to pick up something to eat in the next town?” I ask, kicking a small rock with my toe.

“I s’pose,” he says. “But I don’t know how far that is. You should have eaten those biscuits. They were fine.”

I take a jog ahead of him and turn around as I walk backwards towards the car. “That’s what you think,” I reply. “But you’re going to end up dead and I’m—”

“Rae!”

*

I grabbed Rae’s arm and pulled her in towards me just before a car came barrelling past, narrowly missing us. My heart was pounding in my chest as I hugged her close. “Are you all right?” I said without letting go.

“What… just happened?” she asked.

I loosened my grip on her so that I could look her in the eye. “You were about to walk in front of a speeding car,” I told her, though I was pretty sure my voice was trembling. “I was so scared I was going to lose you.”

It occurred to me that there must have been a reason I was so scared of her getting hit by a car. A reason other than, “I wanted to kill her myself.” Because I wasn’t so sure of that anymore.

“I love you, Rae,” I added seriously.

She stared at me for a moment, as though she were trying to figure out if I was telling the truth, but then she kissed me. And I kissed her back like my life depended on it. Like I needed her more than I needed air to breathe. My heart was still racing, though I wasn’t certain that it was because of the near-accident anymore.

When she stopped kissing me and led me across the road to the car—after looking both ways—I could tell exactly what she wanted; the same thing that I wanted.

*

Maybe it’s the rush of adrenaline from nearly getting hit by a car, or maybe it’s the fact that the fittest boy on the planet just told me that he loves me, but I can’t even wait until we’re in the car before I start trying to take off his jumper. He stops to pull it the rest of the way off before we awkwardly crawl into the backseat, falling over each other. I’m not really sure how people in movies do this.

He accidentally sits on his bag, and I can hear the crunch of his cassette snapping in half. “Shit,” he mumbles, but then continues kissing me.

I climb over him so we can get the door closed and he pulls me down until I’m sitting on his lap. I worry that I’m crushing him, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he holds onto my hips.

As I contemplate how exactly we’re supposed to get our clothes off while we’re crammed back here, there’s a knock at the window that startles both of us. I scramble to get off of him as he leans over to roll down the window.

“You the ones who called for a tow truck?” the man outside asks.

“Yeah,” says Finn. “That’s us.”


	5. Chapter 5

The tow truck driver brought us to a garage in the nearest town, and the mechanic there told us the car would be fixed by closing. So Rae and I only had to kill a few hours waiting, and then we could be on our way. I was able to get her to come to a restaurant with me, even though she probably just wanted to be brought food to eat out behind a dumpster where no one could see her, or something. I recognized it as personal growth in her and I was pleased about it.

“Did you mean it, what you said earlier?” she asked me as the number of chips on the plate between us dwindled.

“What did I say?”

“You know… That you love me,” she said. “Was that just so we’d… do what we were about to do in the car before we got so rudely interrupted?”

“I said it,” I replied, picking up her hands in mine, “because it’s true. I couldn’t bear the thought of being without you.”

She smiled a little. “I love you, too.”

“Does this mean… Er, do you still hate your life, then?”

“What?”

“Just, I don’t want you to kill yourself.”

“I don’t want me to kill myself, either.”

I smiled back genuinely.

*

The garage closes at five, so Finn and I wander around the town for a bit—but that doesn’t take very long since it is a very small town—before waiting on a bench near the garage. When we get the car back, Finn tells me there’s a slight problem.

“You know my huge wad of cash?” he says.

“Yeah…”

“Well, the repairs to the car cost about all of it.”

“All of it?” I ask incredulously.

“We might have five pounds left, or so,” he replies. “Not enough for petrol to get up north, or the ferry to get to the island, or—”

“So what do we do, now?” I spit out at him. “Huh? Do we just go back home? What?”

“We can’t afford to drive all the way back, either…” he says, and I realize that we are royally fucked. “The only thing I can think of,” he continues, “is calling my dad to come and get us.”

I really don’t like that option. The idea of going home and facing my mum after disappearing for a couple days seems terrible. But I don’t know what else to do. “Do you think he’ll do it?” I ask.

Finn shrugs. “I don’t know if we have another option.”

*

I called my dad on a payphone and he agreed to come on the train to get us the next day—though he seemed really angry about the whole thing. I could sort of understand why. I had stolen one of his cars, technically.

I told Rae the situation, but she didn’t seem too pleased about it either.

“Where are we going to stay all night?” she asked.

I looked over at the car and then back at her with a shrug.

“I’m not sleeping in a car!” she complained.

“Well, have you got any better ideas?”

*

I hate this. It’s cold and my neck hurts and Finn’s elbow is digging into my side, but I can’t move anywhere because this car is so damn small. I don’t know how I ever thought we could have sex in here if it’s this uncomfortable just trying to sleep.

“Finn,” I say in a whisper, like I’m afraid of waking him up even though that’s exactly what I want to do. “Finn!”

“What?” he mutters sleepily.

“Your elbow.”

“What?”

“Move your fucking elbow.”

He shifts so that his elbow is no longer digging into me, but his shoulder is, so I push him upright. “What are you doing?” he grumbles.

“Go sleep the other way,” I tell him.

He leans his head against the window and sighs. “This was such a terrible idea.”

“You’re the one who suggested we sleep in the car,” I say defensively.

“I mean this whole trip,” he says. “I should never have come with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he groans, like he’s too tired to answer my question. “Just go back to sleep.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep at all yet.”

“Well, maybe if you stop yammering, you will.”

I’m so offended that I don’t even respond. I just exhale in a huff and adjust the position of my head against the doorframe. But I still can’t sleep; I can’t stop thinking about what he said.

“Seriously,” I add as I look over towards him, “what did you mean when you said you never should have come with me?”

*

My neck was stiff as I tried to turn to face her. “I meant that this wasn’t how I wanted things to go,” I said.

“Oh, so you think that I wanted to get stranded half-way to our destination and have to get brought back home by your dad?” she asked rhetorically.

“And you think I actually wanted to come live with you and your dad in the Outer Hebrides?” I replied.

She sat up straighter and frowned at me.

“Did you really believe that you were going to have some sort of magical life up here?” I continued. “It’s a ridiculous fantasy. Think about it; your dad left you and your mum. He’s a deadbeat.”

“You don’t know that,” she said defensively.

“We were never supposed to make it all the way there, anyway.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the whole reason I came on this stupid trip!” I snapped.

“You wanted to get out of Lincolnshire, too, didn’t you?”

I shook my head. “I just wanted to try something I’d never done before.”

“Like go on a road trip?”

“No. I wanted to kill someone.”

The backseat of the car got very quiet all of a sudden. I couldn’t even hear us breathing. Maybe we weren’t; that bomb I dropped came as a bit of a surprise to both of us.

“You… want to kill someone?” she asked slowly, once she started breathing again.

“I _wanted_ to.”

“Who?”

I looked over at her, like the answer should have been obvious. Her eyes widened when she realized what I was trying to tell her and she recoiled back towards her side of the car.

“Relax, I’m not going to kill you,” I added as she tried to grab the door handle. “I can’t. I care about you too much.”

*

I let go of the handle and stare at him. “I… I can’t figure out if you’re being serious right now.”

“I’m being serious,” he says with a blank expression on his face

“About which part? Wanting to kill me, or caring about me too much to do it?” I ask.

“Both.” He is completely deadpan, which doesn’t help me determine if he is kidding or not.

“This is some sort of sick joke, isn’t it?” I reply. “I’m too tired for this, Finn.”

“Just think of it like this: it’s something we have in common,” he says.

“What?”

“We both, at one point or another, wanted to kill you, but now we don’t,” he answers. “It’s kind of funny, when you think about it.”

“Er, not so much.”

“Look, I’m sorry I said anything. Let’s just pretend I didn’t and go to sleep.”

“If you think I’m going to sleep next to you after you told me that, then you’re even crazier than you seem,” I say, reaching for the door handle again. I open the door quickly and get out of the car, though he gets out on his side shortly afterwards.

“What are you doing now?” he asks.

“I’m getting away from you,” I tell him as I begin to march off towards the nearest street lamp. I feel like it’s important to stay well-lit at the moment.

“I told you, I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” he says when he catches up to me.

“How can I trust anything you say to me right now?” I ask, taking a step back from him.

“Look, I know I lied to you at first, but I’m telling the truth now,” he replies. “I mean, why else would I tell you that I had wanted to kill you. I wouldn’t tell you that if I was still planning to do it. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“Even if that’s true, can’t you see how fucked up it is?”

He stares at me with a slightly confused expression on his face, like he actually can’t see how fucked up it is.

*

“What do you want from me, Rae?” I asked her in frustration.

“I want you to leave me alone!” she shouted at me as she continued backing away.

“I can’t just leave you out here by yourself,” I said. “What if something bad happens to you?”

“I think I’ll take my chances being by myself rather than trapped with a murderer!”

“I’m not a _murderer_ ; the largest thing I’ve ever killed was a stray cat.”

“You know that’s not normal, right?”

“Who’re you to talk about what’s normal?” I replied, growing angry with her holier-than-thou attitude. “You can’t even eat in front of strangers!”

“Those things aren’t equivalent, though!” she said.

“Well, what do you intend to do now?” I asked. “You need my help to get home, remember?”

“I’m not going home; I’m going to my dad’s.”

“And how do you intend to get there?”

“I dunno,” she said. “Maybe I’ll hitchhike.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

She scoffed. “I’ll be safer with you?”

“Of course you will, Rae,” I told her. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I love you.”

*

Perhaps it’s just the lateness of the hour and my lack of sleep, but something about the way he says, “I love you,” softens me a little. I’m almost inclined to believe him.

“Please, let’s just go back to the car and get some rest before my dad gets here tomorrow,” he adds, reaching out his hand.

Cautiously, I take a step towards him, fully prepared to punch him in the throat if he tries to attack me. But he doesn’t. He just walks me back to the car. He even opens the door for me.

I realize that I might be doing something really stupid, but I’m so tired and so fed up with this whole situation. Besides, I’ve spent the past couple of days alone with him and he hasn’t killed me yet, so maybe he’s telling the truth when he says that he can’t do it.

In any case, I manage to fall asleep because the next thing I know, I’m being woken up by a knock on the car window.

*

I woke up when I heard a knock on the car window. I was concerned for a moment that we were about to get in trouble for being vagrants or something, but then I saw who was knocking. I rolled down the window. “Dad,” I said to him.

“Get out of the car, Finn,” he said with an eery calmness.

I looked over at Rae, who appeared nervous, and nodded towards the door. She got out of the car on her side as I did on mine and walked around it to join my dad and me.

He glanced at her for a moment before returning his attention to me. “I don’t have time to get into this with you right now—I want to be home by nightfall—so, here.” He took out a wad of cash that was smaller than mine had been but was still substantial and handed it to me. “This is to get you home. Then I’m having a word with you.”

“Thanks,” I muttered as I accepted the money and shoved it in my pocket.

“As for you,” he added to Rae, “I can drive you home if you like.”

She turned her attention to me for a moment and then said to my dad, “I don’t mind riding back with him.”

He seemed a bit confused by her response—as was I, to be fair—but didn’t press the issue. “I expect the car back home _tonight_ ,” he said to me. “That means no detours, no stopping except for petrol, no excuses. Got it?”

“Got it,” I replied.

“Good.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but then just exhaled and turned around to head back to the car he’d driven up in.

*

Finn and I get into his car and watch his dad drive away before he turns to me. “What was that about?” he asks.

“What was what about?”

“Why did you say you don’t mind riding back with me? I thought you were still kind of angry at me.”

“I am,” I tell him. “But your dad seems even more angry at you and I’d rather not sit next to that all the way to Stamford.”

“Fair enough.”

“Besides,” I add, “we have options now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he gave you all that money,” I say.

“Yeah…”

“So, I’m just saying, we could use it for petrol to head home, or we could use it for petrol to head north…”

He frowns in confusion. “How would we get back by tonight if we start heading north?”

“We wouldn’t,” I say with a smirk.

“But—” A lightbulb goes off above his head when he finally understands what I’m suggesting. “You still want to go there?”

“Beats heading home, doesn’t it?”

“But what happens if we can’t find your dad? Or if he doesn’t want us to stay with him? Or—”

“Then we’ll just keep driving.”

“You want to keep driving? With me?”

“I’ll admit, my previous fondness for you might be clouding my judgment at the moment, but yeah,” I reply. “Let’s just drive.”

He smiles at me before starting the car.

*

The cassette—the one that we didn’t crush—was still in the tape deck and began to play as we headed out of the parking lot.

_“There’s always been that thing, that makes you want to sing, to the beat of the hearts of the world…”_

I looked at Rae again for a second and she smiled back.

“I-I-I-I’m all for love, and that’s the truth now, baby, love for all.”


End file.
